alone at sea
by DrinkingAlcoholicRainbows
Summary: All they were asking from him was that he'd lead the team to Nationals for as long as he'd stay there. None of that would have been a problem if Goode hadn't already sucked out any passion he had for competitive swimming. :: Percy wonders if going to Helles is worth it. Some demons are bound to resurface, but luckily his dad is there. Prequel to rising tides, crushing skies.


**A/N: There you have it! Considering the last time I wrote Poseidon was about five years ago, I was plenty excited to start working on this one. This fic is a prequel to _rising tides, crushing skies_ , where Jason first meets Percy and is instantly attracted. This fic tells the story of the afternoon Percy Jackson faces his former traumas and makes a decision on whether he'd rather stay at Goode or take a risk at Helles, so named after the _Steven Universe_ episode where Lapis Lazuli faces her former traumas and affirms her decision on whether she'd stay in a toxic fusion or take a risk with the Crystal Gems on Earth. Fittingly, in canon, both Percy and Lapis have water-based powers. That, and father figures play a rather important role in both that episode and this fic. **

**A note on etymology: Poseidon is named _Don Patrios_ here, mostly because I had given up on subtlety and just went with talking the last syllable of his name. You can probably figure out that _Patrios_ means _father._ Coincidentally, the name _Don_ works out well: it's a Scottish baby name meaning _great chief_. The name of the place he works at, _Pelagaios_ , was one of his epithets; meaning _of the sea_. Terminus is _Gutierre Numa_ ; his first name being the Spanish derivative of the name _Walter_ , meaning _he who rules_ , though I picked it because of the _ter_ sound. _Numa_ is the name of the king who introduced the worship of Terminus to the Romans, though it could've been Romulus instead. With all that said, please enjoy!**

* * *

The thing about Helles High was that it was great. There were no people who knew him there aside from Annabeth, he got to choose a few of his classes, and he heard they had a pretty bomb-ass canteen, which was the second-most important thing for a school in Percy's opinion. Annabeth herself had high praises for her school, and knowing about how Percy was doing back at Goode, she had been talking his ear off lately about filing for a transfer.

Another thing about Helles High was that whoever owned it was loaded as fuck, because apparently they offered scholarships too. They were also _prideful_ as fuck, because they had threatened Percy to cut him off completely if he didn't bring them to Nationals at least twice.

Considering that he was going to graduate in two years, that meant a fuckton of pressure on Percy's shoulders.

"I don't see why that's a problem," Don frowned at him. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt to work again, and he kept on fiddling with the buttons. He'd been nothing but supportive of a transfer to Helles since Percy mentioned it; telling stories about his glory days there for a full week. "You've been to Nationals before, haven't you? Besides, if you're anything like me, it shouldn't be impossible. Hard, yes, but not unattainable."

"But _Dad_ ," whined Percy, because that was surely the mature thing to do, "what if I was sick of swimming all the time? What if I just wanted to, I don't know, maybe start something new?"

"But _son_ ," his father mocked, using the same whiny tone he had used just a moment ago. "You're _good_ at swimming. Don't you want to use that to your advantage?"

Percy sighed.

"I'm just tired of being used as a trophy kid, Dad," he admitted, staring down at his shoes. They were worn down Chuck Taylors that his mom got him a few years ago for Christmas, a pair of comfy blue sneakers that he wore religiously every day. She got it at a discount sale, he's sure, and she probably had to sweet-talk a few other customers to buy something else.

He took care of those shoes like they were his children. It was the first thing his mom had been able to buy him after divorcing Smelly Gabe.

His dad was staring at him sadly, he knew, but for the most part he just couldn't bring himself to look him in the eyes. The scholarship Helles was offering him wasn't a full ride, but it took enough away that the monthly allowance his dad gave his mom for his living expenses would be enough to cover most of what was left, if not all. All they were asking from him was that he'd lead the team to Nationals for as long as he'd stay there.

None of that would have been a problem if Goode hadn't already sucked out any passion he had for competitive swimming.

Someone was calling his father away, probably because the kids on that field trip had reached their exhibit. With a weary grin, his dad stood up and held out a hand for him to take. Percy took it, and his dad immediately put an arm around his shoulders.

"We'll talk about this later," promised Don. "But for now, Pelagaios won't run itself, now won't it?"

* * *

Pelagaios made a huge show out of being an animal-friendly marine park, and if Percy was the naive sort of person he'd assume it'd be where all the good rep comes from. He knew for a fact that what _really_ drew people in was their tanks. Which seems weird, he'll give people that, but the tanks were so big and all-encompassing that visitors would be forgiven for assuming that the entire park was just some complicated hybrid between a labyrinth and a fish bowl.

When he was a kid, Percy stood in awe as different schools of fish swam over him in the Dome; the building that was basically just half of a gigantic glass sphere with a tunnel that you could walk through, and the first building you ever entered once you get past the ticketing booth. Now that he was turning sixteen, he's gone through the Dome more times than he can count, but he still can't help feeling like he got transported straight into the deep ocean once he's inside. Loathe as he was to admit it, he's still a little disappointed he didn't get assigned there.

Though being his dad's assistant kind of made up for it.

Not that his dad really _needed_ an assistant; Don Patrios was easily one of the more popular tour guides in the park. Legend has it that he became _so_ famed that the head of the marine park herself, Thalassa Pelagaios, assigned him as the Chief Guide of the Marine Animals Division (where he would be handling just the Marine Animals Exhibit, and was strictly forbidden from doing his normal full tour with a selected group) just so customers would stop fighting over him. Percy didn't exactly believe that was the whole truth, but it did explain why his dad walked around Pelagaios like he owned the place.

Percy had started to follow his dad around when he was six years old, which was also roughly the age he found out who his real father was. His mom took them both on a trip to visit the marine park, and he distinctly remembered a mix of both fear and awe; being afraid that his father wouldn't like him, and being fascinated by just how much this complete _stranger_ felt so damn familiar.

He _knew_ that carefree, relaxed stroll; though his father did it with more confidence, while he did it with his head bowed down more often than not, but the pacing was the same. That deep laugh of his, which his mother remembered fondly, was exactly as she had described to him. Forget the same shade of green eyes and the same unruly waves of hair they both had — now that Percy had seen him, he could see the echoes of his father's smile every time he looked in the mirror.

It was his mother, as always, who encouraged him with a gentle push. She smiled with a tinge of sadness, but overall, she looked happy to see the man who had once cared for her heart so tenderly.

She didn't say, "Don't be afraid."

She had said, kneeling down to look him in the eyes, "Have courage."

That small burst of bravery gave way to a very heartwarming, if slightly awkward, family reunion right at the center of the famed Pelagaios Marine Park. It was this same chain of events that led Percy Jackson, juvenile part-time assistant and son to the most respected tour guide this side of the East Coast, to where he was now.

Hunched down on a bench, feeding wild pigeons with the leftovers of a slightly moldy hamburger, and wondering whether he could _really_ pass Helles High's ridiculously high standards for a swimming scholarship.

"Well fuck," Percy murmured to himself. "I don't even _like_ swimming anymore."

"That's not a very nice word," an unfamiliar, scolding voice said.

He looked up from his shoes to see a little girl of about six years old, staring at him. She had pigtails, a pink dress, and an impish grin with two missing teeth. It was as though cotton candy was suddenly personified, with the matching dental record of someone who ate too many sweets without brushing.

In short, she was adorable as hell, and Percy couldn't help smiling at her. "Maybe you haven't considered that I'm just not a very nice person," he teased, and watched her giggle in response. "Hi there, my name's Percy. What's yours?"

"I'm Julia," she proudly proclaimed. "I don't think you're not nice, Mr. Percy. But you sure look a little lonely. Do you want to see me do a cartwheel?"

Surprised and more than a little amused, Percy replied, "I don't think I wouldn't want to."

Julia lit up with a bright, sunny grin. She immediately went into what was apparently a cartwheel-ready stance, psyching herself up with little jumps and deep breaths. She put her hands on the ground and — _whoop!_ — she landed a perfect cartwheel, awesome pose at the end and all. Percy clapped very enthusiastically.

"I like doing cartwheels," she said. "Do you like cartwheels too?"

"Yeah, I think cartwheels are pretty great," he said. "Though I think they're better suited for you than they are for me. I'm more of a swimmer, myself."

She tilted her head, confused. "You said you didn't like swimming."

Percy aimed a sad smile at her. "It's a little more complicated than that, Julia."

Six years old was too young for Percy to spill _all_ the nasty little details. He couldn't tell Julia about how he'd been relentlessly bullied by the school until the swimming coach chanced on him doing a few of his cool-down laps at the pool — which weren't really so much about cooling down as it was about being able to vent out all his frustrations through his broad, fast strokes in the water. Training was grueling, and the exhaustion mixed with his inability to concentrate in class often led to low marks.

Though there were always teachers like Paul and Mr. Brunner that had sincerely believed in him, the rest of the student body still didn't accept the weird kid with a few hyperactive tendencies and haunted eyes. While he _was_ grateful for everything they had tried to do for him — even trying to implement a rule that nobody was allowed to discriminate against Percy when it was competition season — it had never truly taken full effect, and as such, it didn't change a thing.

One good thing about Percy taking intense swimming training was that he had started to muscle up a bit, meaning he was able to hold his own a little better in a fight than he did before. For his part, the trouble came to _him_ instead of the other way around; usually in the form of bullying, whether the victim was him or someone else. On the technicality that he was doing it in self-defense, not even his red-faced homeroom teacher could file a report against him.

But on the flip-side, all his talent for swimming inevitably led to more and more medals and trophies. For a relatively unimpressive school like Goode with no particular stand-out students, it was like Percy was a gift sent from the gods. Eventually, to keep him from leaving, the principal had started bargaining; if Percy could win _this_ contest, the school could excuse _this_ offense or _that_ bad grade.

 _Can't blame a school for wanting a champ,_ as the principal had often laughed. _Even if it turned out to be you._

If anything, this made the bullying even _worse._ Rumors started spreading about him secretly taking drugs to keep winning and to keep reaping the benefits. His coach eventually told him to leave the team for a while, as a result. Despite bringing the team to Nationals, he didn't get to compete. And so everyone kept calling him a coward until the school year ended.

The honest truth was that Percy didn't want to be any more of a burden on his mom, so he had been able to swallow his pride when the principal was making his offers. He didn't want to make her cry.

Not that the truth mattered. Nobody wanted to listen to Percy Jackson.

So in the light of the setting sun, he took a deep breath. He had a half-thought about just _lying_ about the whole affair, saying something about having to give it up for _love_ or whatever, but he supposed he had to honor the little girl who wanted to keep him company. He aimed a toothy grin at Julia and patted the space beside him.

Needless to say, she took a seat.

"I'm a really good swimmer," Percy started, letting himself brim a little with pride. "In fact, I was picked to be part of the school team. I was so good that I was winning contests, and the principal liked that. He wanted me to keep swimming so he could make the school look better."

Julia was staring at him intently, hanging on to his every word. He took another deep breath and remembered his mother's words from long ago.

 _Have courage,_ she had said.

"But there were a lot of people who didn't like _me_ , and they were saying bad things before I even joined the swim team," he continued, feeling phantom bruises and aches all over his body; every place they ever hit and every word they ever said was coming back to him now. "They said I was cheating, so my coach had to tell me to leave."

"They're not very nice," Julia huffed, with all the indignancy of a six year old. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Percy managed a small laugh because of her seriousness. "Well, there are people like that, I guess. They didn't like me because I was—"

 _Gay._

"—different," he said, instead. He didn't want to get dragged into _that_ conversation, especially since he was just some random stranger who had recently told a rather sensitive part of his lifestory on a whim. He hadn't even told _Annabeth_ this much, much less his father. Emotionally, Percy was feeling a little tired.

"That's dumb," she argued. "Now tell me why you don't like swimming anymore."

This time, Percy was the one to tilt his head in confusion. "Didn't I already?"

Apparently fed up with his denseness (which was remarkable, considering he had only asked a single question), Julia jumped off the bench to stand in front of him — similar to how she originally approached him. Instead of a curious glance, however, all he got was an unimpressed glare.

"You didn't tell me why you don't like swimming," she insisted. "You only told me how you stopped. So please tell me why you said you don't like swimming anymore, Mr. Percy."

That caught him off-guard. Percy didn't really think about whether he still actually _liked_ swimming; just that he was tired of all the trouble it had brought him so far. While past events have certainly darkened the thought of even stepping into a pool, he couldn't deny having missed how smoothly the water let him move; everything a little more graceful in a medium that slowed people down, and the thrill of breaking though that barrier through his own strength.

Before he could even open his mouth, his father quickly stepped into view. There was a muscular, if a bit old, man with him. He had curly hair and the most irritated look on his face. It was in a weird contrast with his dad, who was certainly just as beefy, but tended to carry his weight with a genial smile instead of looking like he was constantly constipated.

Just like a switch had been turned on, Julia broke out into a sunny smile as she rushed to the other man, who softly patted her head. "Uncle Ter," she said happily. "You wouldn't believe who I met today!"

"Uncle Ter?" Percy asked, looking at his dad.

"Ah," Don said, more than a little amused. "This is Gutierre Numa, who is currently the face of Terminal Corporations. You may have heard about their top-notch locks and safes. As you can see, he was on a little sidetrip with his niece before she meandered off."

Gutierre huffed, in a way that was eerily similar to his niece. "Your security measures must be a little lax if a _six year old_ managed to get away. Nevertheless, I _am_ grateful that you managed to keep her in one piece, boy."

"His name is Percy," Julia said. "He likes my cartwheels and he's nice. He's also really confusing."

In an attempt to humor her and get some teasing material at the same time, Don's eyes twinkled. "And why do you say that?" he asked her.

"He told me he was going to tell me why he said he doesn't like swimming," she pouted. "He told me a story about a mean school instead. I don't understand why that's important."

Percy froze. There was no way his father wouldn't connect the dots.

He spared a glance, and his dad was just staring silently at Julia, wide-eyed.

Almost impossibly, Gutierre's eyes softened. "You don't need to understand that now, Julia. Honestly, I hope you never do."

She looked up at him, confused, but all he did was take her hand.

"Thank you for taking care of her, Percy," Gutierre said, though he did so very gravely. "If you don't mind, Don, we'll be taking our leave now."

"Feel free to come again," Don said, faintly.

Percy barely managed to wave back at Julia before they left, and before he knew it, he was left alone with his dad. There was almost a defeated slouch to him, like he had just been presented with a depressing inevitability that he couldn't stop. All of a sudden, he looked incredibly weak.

"I told you that we would talk," his father said, very softly. "But first I think I'd like us to walk back to the Dome."

* * *

His mother once told him that both he and his dad were like open books sometimes. He supposed he could understand that now.

Percy had almost completely reverted to his tactics back when he first started Goode — looking down, shoulders hunched, trying to be as small as possible — as the phantom bruises and aches that haunted him increased their pain tenfold. It had been his precious fallback to become invisible at a moment's notice; not that he had ever succeeded then, and he certainly didn't succeed now.

From what he could see, his dad wasn't doing any better either. For the first time, Percy was seeing his father with his head bowed. Instead of hs usual smile, all he had was an aloof and stormy gaze. His father's deep rumbling laughter, rolling like ocean waves, was nowhere to be found. His steps, which have always been leisurely, have become almost pathetically stiff. Though his back was as rimrod straight as ever, there was no confidence in Don Patrios' posture; just an overwhelming and robotic calmness that he was visibly struggling to force.

Almost like the environment had changed to suit their moods, Pelagaios — normally so bright and full of colorful aquatic life — felt incredibly subdued in the twilight they were now under. The lights were dimmer, the paths were emptier, the fish were starting to go back their anemones so they could rest. As they passed through each tank, Percy silently bid them good night. Under the darkening sky, he wondered just who this long walk was meant to comfort: himself, his father, or the both of them.

The moon was already starting to rise once they had arrived at the Dome, whose exotic energy in the daylight was now melancholy serenity. It had always stood out, despite being the smallest of all the attractions the marine park boasted, simply because its spherical shape allowed people to imagine what it would be like to live under the sea. This tiny ocean that never failed to fully entrance its visitors; as he turned to face him, Percy could now see its shadows reflected on his father's face.

It was like he was six years old again, small and scared and not knowing a single thing about what his father was like.

Of all things, Don Patrios let out an amused chuckle.

"I guess the myths are true," he mused, a melancholy smile on his face. "One can never be truly sad at the Dome. It's one of those famous urban legends, you know, but I've never been quite sure of how it started."

An uncomfortable silence.

"Are you mad at me?" Percy asked quietly.

"Mad? No, but I'm certainly a little depressed." His father smiled a sad smile, and he looked deep into Percy's eyes. "It's not everyday that you find out that your only son was bullied so bad that his own favorite sport now serves as a harsh reminder of it."

Seeing that broken expression on his dad's face felt so wrong that Percy couldn't resist blurting out, "It wasn't just the bullies."

His dad sighed. "You're not very good at comforting people."

Ignoring that comment, Percy said, "I kept baiting them, so it's not like it was _purely_ their fault or anything. All the stuff they saying about favoritism was technically true anyway. You know how it is. Lots of pressure for Goode's reigning champ, and lots of leeway too."

Though he meant for that to come out as reassuring, ultimately the darkness in his eyes and the sharp tone used at the end meant it came out as more than a little bitter. Don frowned at him, which made him feel worse.

"Can't blame a school for wanting a champ," he echoed.

"Would you really defend them, Percy?" His father asked, confused and more than a little offended. "Even now?"

"It's not all their fault."

"You're still not fully to blame."

Percy didn't respond to that. He was, however, putting his hands into fists that were minutely shaking, though he didn't think his father missed that.

"Suppose I let this pass without much trouble," said Don, crossing his arms. "Where will you go now? Helles is the only high school in the area that will offer scholarships, much less excuse your past grades and behavior, yet you are reluctant to take it. Goode promotes a toxic environment which is unsuitable for your growth. But at Helles, I can protect you—"

"And I won't accept it," said Percy.

Don's eyebrows furrowed. "Excuse me?"

"I'd be grateful, really. But after the year I've had I'm not all too willing to let people do me favors. Goode wasn't good to me, which is still incredibly ironic, but if there's anything I've learned there it's that I've always got to have my own back. I won't let you fight for me, Dad."

His dad heaved a sigh again, but this time he aimed a small, if weary, smile at him. "Just like your mother," he said. "Fine. I'll accept that, only because I trust your strength. But you still have to choose where you'll spend your last two years of high school."

Percy didn't answer that. Instead, he looked up. All around him were different species of marine life. Different colors of corals and anemones surrounded him, slowly swaying with the water. An octopus was taking a leisurely swim under the moonlight, more than a few crabs were scurrying along the makeshift sea bed, and a sea turtle glided gracefully above him while a school of orange fish followed it.

More than anything, or anyone really, it was these animals who had taught him how to swim. Every time he started to get frustrated with mastering a particular stroke, he thought of them. Both huge whales and tiny krill swam in the same seas, he would remind himself, and sea otters could swim on their backs. Dolphins could both break free from and dive into the water in quick succession, and there was no reason why he couldn't do the same.

 _Any creature can survive in the water,_ his dad would often say on tours. _Look at any animal in this exhibit and we'll show you each unique way that nature taught them how._

With all the conviction of a six year old, Percy had once vowed to prove to himself that even someone like him could survive in the water.

Now, he had to convince himself he could survive high school.

"Julia was right," said Percy, who managed to sound both amused and defeated at the same time. Don was staring at him again, he knew, and this time he made the effort to look into his father's eyes. "I didn't tell her why I didn't like swimming anymore, not really. I guess that's because, despite everything, I actually miss it. But can you blame me for being scared? I mean, what happens when I go back? I don't know what to think, Dad."

Don hummed. "Then don't think about it. Where do you _want_ to go?"

"We both know the answer to that."

"A fine choice. I graduated there, you know."

"I _do_ know."

"They've got high expectations, don't they?"

"My scholarship requirement is one National competition a year."

For some reason, his dad's eyes sparkled at that. In the moonlight, he looked ominous as hell, but Percy knew his dad was probably just being a dork. He resisted the urge to snort. Only a guy like Don Patrios could be so relaxed when it came to odds like that, but it's not like he _wanted_ to stay at Goode any more than his dad did. He missed the feel of the water, sure, but going to Helles was a gamble in a way he almost didn't want to risk: he could easily be both bullied _and_ forced to compete, far away from his mom and any connection to her. At least at Goode, he had Paul and Mr. Brunner; but at the same time, he also knew that he just didn't have the _conviction_ to win anymore, not through swimming.

Weighing the pros and cons only made his head hurt, but he _knew_ he wanted to leave Goode, even if he felt a bit selfish for it. Helles was far from home in many ways; geographically, financially, emotionally. It was the perfect chance for a new start, if he'd take it — and he wanted to, but the odds weren't in his favor. If only he could find a loophole somewhere...

Wait.

Of _course_.

His dad was humming innocently to some generic pop song, pretending the observe the fish — and also, undoubtedly, trying his very best not to laugh at Percy. He wanted to be angry at him, suddenly, but he also had this overwhelming urge to leap for joy.

"Dad," he said, weakly. Hopefully.

"Yes?" smiled Don.

"Please tell me if I'm getting this right," Percy said slowly. "But they didn't specify which sport I had to compete in. Just that I had to get to Nationals."

"That's what you said," agreed his dad. "Go on."

"So," Percy could almost vibrate with childish giddiness, and he unknowingly let out a huge grin. "Theoretically, if I was both a swimmer and an athlete of some other sport, and I just so _happened_ to drop swimming and get into Nationals in that other sport...that'd be acceptable, yeah?"

Don's eyes were bright. "I suppose they'd have to let such things slide."

"You mean I can go?" He couldn't help but laugh; for the first time in a long while, he finally felt like he could _breathe_. He felt like he just resurfaced after a few months of continuously being dumped under the water. It was a relief, to say the least; though _invigorating_ was probably a better word for it. "Really, just like that?"

"If you accept it, as you've been having trouble with doing that so far." His dad was grinning at him, and he couldn't help but grin back. "You'd probably have to make some serious negotiations with the headmaster, proud bastard that he is, but you _should_ be able to — _oof!_ "

"Thank you," said Percy, wrapping his arms tighter across his dad's torso. Who, apparently, was taken by so much surprise by the gesture of affection that he had no idea where to place his hands.

Bewildered, Don sputtered. "I didn't do a thing—"

"—except make a _strong_ recommendation to Helles High," Percy continued. He smirked when he saw his dad gape at him. "You really thought they wouldn't tell me? It was the first thing out of their mouth."

By this point, his dad had now gotten over his shock and was tentatively returning the hug. It was like he was afraid Percy would break.

"Perseus," his father murmured.

"Don't call me that," whined Percy. "Nobody does."

"You're my only son, probably the only one I will ever have," countered Don. "I'm allowed to call you whatever I like. That includes the name _I_ gave you." He pulled away slightly, putting his large hands on Percy's shoulders, facing him directly. Then, after a pause and a deep breath, his mouth twitched upward. "But you already know the story behind that."

Percy nodded.

"Good," his dad smiled. "Have courage, will you?"

"I won't let you down," promised Percy.

* * *

After going back home, Percy urged his mom to go upstairs to her bedroom for a proper rest. She had been staying up all night again, trying to finish that book of hers, and was so exhausted that she ended up collapsing on the table. Paul had called him earlier, saying he might be a little late with sorting out his class schedules with the rest of the English teachers, and Percy told him he'd take care of his mom while he was gone.

"Percy," his mom said, while he was going up with her. "Are you sure you'll be alright? I've been so focused on my book, and it's already so _late_ , god, I haven't even been able to make a proper dinner!"

He smiled at her. "Don't worry. I'll find something I can microwave in the fridge. Besides, Dad and I had a bit of a talk. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow."

"If you're sure," she said dubiously. She stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss on the forehead, like she always did when he was a kid. He's a little embarrassed she still continued to do it, but the way it made him feel warm inside made him glad she never stopped. "Good night, Percy."

"Good night, Mom. Love you," he said. She smiled at him, and closed her bedroom door.

Once he was sure she was sound asleep, Percy immediately brought out his phone, dialing a number that he'd never thought he'd call in his days from Camp Half-Blood. By now, it had become his most-used contact. "Hey Annabeth? Yeah, I think I made up my mind now," he grinned. "You know of any sports teams there in Helles that I can join?"


End file.
